Today has been a really crap day. Today I feel like a rubbish parent. Daisy has been a different child this past month – people keep saying it’s just the age she’s at, it’ll change. But it’s not and I’m getting fed up. I’m feeling incredibly crappy about the whole situation if I’m being completely honest. I’m a quiet and reserved person, I don’t like being centre of attention. But when my child is screeching and hitting me in the middle of the playground, it’s safe to say that we’re centre stage. We all judge other parents, it’s just part of our DNA – even if we’re judging that they’re doing a good job – there’s still something in our brain that is telling us to make a judgement on the events happening in front of us. I’m trying really hard to get better at this whole ”telling off” malarky, but I’m find it hard. I use this blog as therapy as sometimes writing and publishing a post can be incredibly cathartic.
I love this little girl with all my heart – and even as she’s being naughty I can’t help but think ‘I hope she’s okay’ and ‘I hate that she’s so sad’. But this past month has been SO hard. She’s just turned three and I feel like nothing I do will ever work. Is this just how she is now? Is she just a naughty child? I feel like I have more control at home or when other parents aren’t around. Daisy has always been a loud child and so I’ve had to come completely out of my comfort zone and push myself to be confident. Sometimes I’ll go out for lunch with her and get home feeling completely drained – both physically and mentally. When she plays up I can’t help but spend the rest of the day retracing my every move and every word. I’m not sure why I do this – my mum constantly says to me “Stop worrying about what other people think” but it’s hard when you suffer with anxiety. Your mind tends to overrule common sense and you worry that every little thing you did was wrong and judged.
Today, I don’t like being a mum. I may love it, but I just don’t like it. Tomorrow is another day and I just have to keep reminding myself that being a parent is hard but no matter how hard it gets, it’ll always get better. It’s hard to remember the good days when the bad days reveal their ugly heads, but it’s important to make time to remember them. Today after Daisy had her screeching/hitting/shouting fit, she attempted to run into the road after preschool – whilst I ran after her with a scooter, bags, keys, phones and everything in-between in my hands – I knew I looked like an idiot. My running is something I’m pretty self conscious about after being bullied in school for it. But it was either that or let my child get run over. Anxiety is hard, I wish I could just kick it in the arse and not give a flying f**k about what anyone thinks. I wish I could be that person. But no, I’m the anxious mum that can’t tell her two year old off in fear of judgement. I’m determined to change.